


9.15 lix fm

by brieflygorgeous



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Radio, Bad Humor, Fluff and Humor, Hwang Hyunjin is the embodiment of the Pisces Sign, M/M, and by that i mean he's chaotic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25520812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brieflygorgeous/pseuds/brieflygorgeous
Summary: hyunjin is a painfully single, hopeless romantic college student who keeps writing chaotic letters to his favorite radio host in anything but proper prose.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Felix
Comments: 30
Kudos: 226





	9.15 lix fm

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in two days completely out of a whim and then proceeded to never publish it cause I thought it sucked so bad it didn't deserve to exist lmao it took me five months to change my mind and tell myself I am allowed to write bad, self-indulgent fanfiction!
> 
> I very much picture this as a non dystopic sibling to my vaporwave fic. It has the same sense of humor and capitalism critique so beware this is probably not your conventional type of humor lmao 
> 
> Enjoy!

here’s the thing about asking jisung match you with a friend of his: he thinks two plus two equals four, which is not always the case. jisung might be the second person most invested in hyunjin’s love life (or the lack thereof) besides hyunjin himself, so the minute he spots anyone with any semblance of symmetry—or shared interests, like normal people call it—he immediately assumes it’s a match. two plus two, simple math.

but hyunjin is pretty sure him and the guy teasing the hell out of changbin through kissy sounds—when he’s allegedly _hyunjin’s_ date—are not a four. by a far shot. they’re maybe two and minus two cancelling each other to make a zero. _hah_. hyunjin can at least console his heart in knowing he manages to beat jisung at love equations. and he’s not getting anywhere past zero tonight, judging by how his date is feeling up changbin’s muscles and jisung apparently does not care one bit. sucks for a friend, right?

“come on, hyunjin,” jisung slaps the living shit out of hyunjin’s shoulder, probably dislodging a joint in the process. he’s drunk, which can only mean he’s trying to impress someone, and that someone happens to be the australian-korean cutie with a one sided dimple that hasn’t stopped smiling at jisung for one second during this entire double/triple/failed? date. fuck jisung and his luck, honestly. “drink some more, the soju shots are on the house.”

“which house? i’m pretty sure you’re as broke as myself.”

jisung shushes him with a pout and a finger that stabs past hyunjin’s lips and nearly drills into his gums. it tastes of the greasy sticks jisung’s been ordering like it’s water from this hole in the wall diner, which hyunjin can’t deny it’s the most value for money they’ve had outside uni cafeteria meals.

jisung uncaps a soju bottle with the heel of his palm as an apology for the gross experience.

“just take it, come on.”

“i’m gonna order jjajangmyeon.”

“but why?”

“to keep the tradition.”

jisung rolls his eyes so hard he gets a little crossed but hyunjin loses interest as soon as the waitress brings the noodles.

to be single means to suffer not only one but a painful streak of romance oriented holidays, black day being the saddest. it’s a stupid, made up event targeted at bitter single people like himself to inject some more money in the capitalist rotation by communal celebration of singlehood through copious amount of black bean noodles, hence the name. barely anyone actually clowns themselves like that anymore these days but hyunjin is stupid and single and would never pass the chance to eat his sadness away.

  
  


x

_“it’s two am right now, which means if you’re listening to this you’re still awake. what are you thinking about?”_

hyunjin is thinking about the arcade game shop he found the other day. is thinking how quick he was to drop the fifty discount deal on his favorite matcha tea package because he couldn’t pass the chance to spend his meager earnings on a frustratingly short pinball match.

he sucks at games in general, and sucks even more in life functionality, which is why it’s two am and his neurons are colliding against each other like thirty pinballs plunging in succession and he’s completely unprepared for how the machine—his brain—rattles out of control and the only thing that would keep it at bay is probably rotting in a convenience store shelf, heartbroken and replaced by the cheap thrill of playing a game hyunjin knows he’ll lose.

but it’s fine.

he’s _fine._

he turns the phone volume up until he can’t listen to his mind falling apart anymore and pretends the voice coming from his earbuds it’s human matcha. which in hindsight sounds a bit cannibalistic but it’s not, okay, it’s not. it just happens to be as effective as matcha in making him relax for once, so hyunjin sucks it up and drinks the static noise coming through his phone like it’s a whole gallon of matcha.

“what are you doing?”

of course seungmin be the one to find him.

maybe hyunjin’s thoughts have finally found a way to slingshot themselves right into his best friend’s brain, because how else would seungmin know hyunjin is curled up in the tub-shower of their dorm bathroom in, scribbling on the bullet journal note he left for later?

“writing,” hyunjin says. coughs. shrugs and tries to ignore how seungmin raises his eyebrows like hyunjin’s sanity is a questionable matter. “i’m having a hard time okay, leave me alone.”

“i can’t, i need to pee.”

“suit yourself.”

hyunjin closes his eyes and focuses on the song now playing on the radio. it’s one he remembers requesting in a recent letter, sent just two days ago along with yet another one of his emotional essays about whatever crosses his mind amid sleep and matcha deprivation. dua lipa sings how she can’t stop thinking about someone and god does hyunjin wish he had such reason— _personI—_ to keep himself awake at night instead of his pathetic life decisions.

“are you writing another love letter?”

seungmin flushes the toilet and the moment is ruined. dua lipa can’t compete with physiological needs and hyunjin still has the mind not to blow his eardrums away.

“it’s not a love letter, it’s more like a confessional letter.”

“same thing. i bet this radio host knows you better than i do at this point.”

hyunjin snorts but it sounds ugly and too well timed with the moment the song ends and that sweet matcha voice comes back on.

_“i hope you can all overcome the heartbreaks that leave you up this late at night. if you can’t, i’ll keep you company. this is your 9.15 lix fm host, felix lee speaking.”_

x

_dear felix,_

hyunjin begins. stops. considers some more before continuing.

_hi, it’s me again. hyunjin. you know, the guy that keeps sending you letters. yeah, that’s me._

_so anyways, do you like matcha? i find that there’s little that helps my insomnia better than a good cup of hot matcha tea at night. you know, besides listening to your programs. i think you have quite the talent there. even if i don’t fall asleep i’m always relaxed when i listen to you. hey, you ever thought about having your own asmr channel? lately it’s also something that helps me fall asleep. or at least keeps me distracted when my head is so full of thoughts it’s like my skull is a pinball machine hahaha_

_anyways, i hope this letter finds you well. if you ever read it, can you please play middle of the night by monsta x? it’s one of my favorite songs from them. you know when joohoney sings that he hates sleeping alone and he’s picking up the phone? i wish i had someone like that, who i can phone. when i’m feeling alone, i usually pick up the phone to listen to you. is that weird?_

_love, hyunjin_

hyunjin starts carefully tearing the book page at the gutter but fails to keep it a seamless job when jeongin sidles up to him and makes hyunjin squeal in the middle of the fucking book shop and rip his letter in half. the customers look at him the same way seungmin does when hyunjin is swinging his arms and babbling nonsense at whatever annoys him: like hyunjin is growing senile at mid twenties and would do well to see a therapist.

“vandalizing shop property, hyung? jinyoung hyung will be hearing of this.”

“shush! just deduct this from my payment and move on.”

“will do. why are you writing a letter on a blank book page though? we have plenty of stationary stuff you can use instead.”

hyunjin does not know how to explain his mind isn’t divided in clear and strategic sections like the bookshop him and jeongin work part time at. mostly his mind is an assortment of grocery shopping lists with the quantities all wrong, weird sleep schedules without a reasonable pattern and a bunch of balloon thoughts he scribbles in any readable surface with a permanent sharpie he keeps in his back pocket. that has led to some interesting accidents like immortalizing one particular letter to felix upside down in his favorite pair of jeans.

god bless bookshop aprons for hiding that.

“when i realized it i was already writing it. you know i can't help it.”

jeongin pops a particularly loud bubblegum right into hyunjin’s breathing range.

“you know that’s why you’re still single, right?”

“what the- what? why?!”

“you keep asking jisung hyung to play matchmaker for you when really what you should be doing is just mailing this felix guy that you got the hots for him.”

“what? i do not get the hots for him! i don’t even know what he looks like!”

“do you need to?”

fair point, but hyunjin isn’t about to give jeongin that.

“anyways, just get me some clear tape, i need to salvage what you just mangled.”

“whatever you say, hyung.”

jeongin throws him a gudetama washi tape instead, forcing hyunjin to rewrite two lines of his letter over gudetama’s butt, which surprisingly isn’t the weirdest thing he’s ever sent in a letter since that time he sent a two page essay on the best pepero flavor (it’s matcha. always bet on matcha) on the back of a strawberry pepero box, which totally contradicted his statement. hyunjin had to top his clownery by shipping five matcha pepero boxes with his next letter, which never returned so he guesses his point stands, right?

x

summer rainstorms are possibly the worst thing to happen when you’re on the third insomniac night in a row on your finals week. perspiration makes a hyunjin stew out of his own sweat and he can’t even say he’d be a tasty one given the amount of junk food he’s pumped into his body like fuel to survive the semester. maybe his cheeks and lips would be soft and savory but the rest of him? probably meat past the expiration date.

thunder cracks outside and the whole apartment dorm shakes like an earthquake coming upside down on him. the lights decide they’re done with his late night cramming bullshit and go out along with all the other important stuff like the tv, the xbox and the refrigerator, so hyunjin can’t even snack or play games or watch drama reruns til his brain runs out of battery.

deciding the stratospheric roaming charges he’ll get by the end of the month are future hyunjin’s problem, he turns on his phone to incredible two bars of signal. god bless technology. white noise and interference sputtering is all that comes out at first when he tunes in the radio station, which isn’t at all surprising given the adverse climatic conditions, but at last comes felix’s voice to rescue his melatonin.

_“...dangerous, but i guess this is like a metaphor about life itself. you know, when i first came to south korea i spent many lonely nights awake wondering if there was anybody out there willing to listen to me, so i guess that’s how i started doing radio hosting”_

hyunjin fumbles inside his pockets but all he finds are sticky candy wrappings and small change, none surface suitable for writing. his trustworthy sharpie must be somewhere in what seungmin has nicknamed hyunjin’s “marie kondo’s unsavable case” in their shared bedroom, so against all safety measures he stands before the foggy glass of the kitchen window and starts writing with his fingertip.

_holy fuck this disappears too fast_

_wait wait im gonna take pictures_

_okay good_

_um hi felix_

_this is probably my weirdest letter ever but i felt like talking to you_

the window makes snapping noises like it’s about to break. the radio station buffers chopped pieces of a song hyunjin can’t make sense of.

_the energy went out bc its raining like the world is coming to an end and we’re the last living humans in this fine night hahaha_

_whew_

_i was actually cramming for an exam but guess it’s useless if there’s no world tomorrow right_

_im sorry you have to put up with my depressing stuff_

_somehow talking to you always makes sense when im feeling like this_

the audio loads once again just as the chorus of middle of the night falls on shownu’s verses. and i’ll be on the way in the middle of night/it’s something in the way you’ve been running in my mind/if you want me to stay for the rest of my life/you’ve got me, you’ve got me.

_you never mention me in your reading letters segment but im guessing you still read them?_

_cause you’re always just in time when i need to hear something_

_hey felix do you like jjajangmyeon? or are you more into jjampong? does it rain like this in australia?_

_“sometimes my own thoughts are my worst enemies too. but i try to be kind to myself and i hope you can do it too.”_

_i really like your voice. i think that whatever you choose to do, you’re gonna succeed. do you prefer strawberry or matcha pepero? i never got to ask you._

_“so if you’re out there in the storm and somehow got here, i hope you know you’re not alone. you’ve got me.”_

_you’re not alone either_

_love, hyunjin_

x

admittedly valentine’s day is a capitalist fabricated holiday intended to boost sales of goods that bring little to no real satisfaction other than a fleeting sensation of superiority over the population excluded from yet another cruel system of social imposed behavior known as: romance.

but who is hyunjin kidding if he doesn’t admit that year after year he makes a fool of himself by pointedly breaking his selfie streak on instagram like it’s a goddamn statement of how bitterly single he is and how much he wants the world to know he’s as lonely as it gets. he maximizes the feeling of complete and utter solitude by refusing to access any other social media during the most miserable twenty four hours of his life and barricading his room with snacks for a romcom drama marathon.

perhaps weeping at how pathetic he looks in comparison to unattainable glamorous tv versions of college life isn’t the most effective way to counter his bubbling feeling of failure in the love department but when was hyunjin ever known for sensible life choices? not ever, as far as he knows.

it’s the perfect moment to write felix something on the souvenir notepad he got from an academic seminar, but the minute seungmin steps into the room with that sweet expression that ranks somewhere between “i care about you deeply and this is why i’m worried” and “bitch what the fuck are you doing again”, hyunjin knows he’s screwed.

“are you writing to that radio host again?”

“no?”

yes. _yes_ , he is, and they both know it because hyunjin barely remembers to check his kakaotalk chats, what could possibly make him take time to handwrite anything if not for his idealized crush?

seungmin sighs, which is never a good sign. (pun not intended)

“you know you can keep writing letters forever but that will get you nowhere in the long run, right?”

“i don’t want to get anywhere.”

seungmin gives him a minute to reconsider.

“leave me alone, seungmin.”

“listen, if this guy hasn’t been creeped out by you already—and trust me there has been _plenty_ of opportunities for that—i think he might be at least intrigued by your existence. just write that you want to get to know him. who knows? maybe he’s someone on campus, cause i’m pretty sure that address isn’t that far away from here.”

hyunjin gasps loud and dramatic like there’s a camera right there recording all of his facial expressions.

“i’d be mortified, do you know how much humiliating stuff i’ve told him? what if he’s that weird dude that keeps ogling me during class?”

“well, don’t you want a real human connection? isn’t that why you’re always bitching about being single?”

hyunjin pouts because he’s cornered and there’s no better escape method out of any uncomfortable situation than refusing to acknowledge it. it’s not effective after the many times seungmin and him have had this conversation, but hyunjin is not aiming for effectiveness. mostly he aims for endurance, which is also seungmin’s specialty. damn it, there’s no escaping it, is there?

seungmin hands him paper— _actual_ paper and not grocery store receipts, greasy hamburger wrapping and torn pages from academic books hyunjin usually writes on—and a pen.

“go ahead.”

“are you just gonna stand there and watch me write?”

“i can leave if that will help you channel your inner hopeless romantic.”

so he does, and hyunjin is for once unsure what to write.

chaotic spontaneity caused by insomnia is way more inspiring than having to actually rationalize his feelings into a semi-coherent narrative. 

_hi felix_

_it’s hyunjin._

_this is not my usual letter. i’m not always in the right state of mind when i’m writing to you._

_not that i was never honest! i may have been drunk more than once but it was all from the bottom of my heart. or liver. or both. anyways._

_i usually don’t think much when i write to you. i feel very comforted by the idea that i can talk to you freely, but the truth is that sometimes i’m scared. not just scared of you, but in general. i’m scared to talk to people and feel that i am a disappointment to them. like lol look at that dude thinking he stands a chance. something like that. i know this sounds like i’m a coward. well i am a coward._

_but i was hoping not to be_ that _much of a coward for once. i don’t wanna keep giving nor receiving mixed signals (hahaha, get it? sorry i’m lame) so i guess what i’m trying to say is that i want to meet you. like, for real._

_i don’t have second intentions i promise! uh, unless you do. too._

_we can start as friends. or enemies._

_what if we end up hating each other in the end? well shit that was not part of the plan but i guess i’m willing to risk it all. you’re really nice. you always talk about keeping your listener’s company through the night so i thought what if we did it for real except like._

_for real, you know what i mean? hahaha._

_well, i’m running my mouth now. but you already know that, don’t you?_

_sorry i suck at communication and flirting. do you wanna grab coffee or tea some day? we don’t need to drink matcha, we can go for whatever you want._

_yeah. so my number is xxxxx. you can text me. or write a letter. if you don’t, that’s also okay. i should probably stop bothering you with letters as well. i don’t wanna keep it one sided, so if you ever felt like reaching out to me too this is the sign! hahaha_

_as a last song request, would you play lonely hearts club by marina?_

_thank you so much for always listening to my complaints and playing my favorite songs._

_all the best,_

_hyunjin_

x

here’s the thing: two plus two does not always equal four. once a coward, always a coward. so hyunjin spends the next two nights busying himself with all sorts of once mundane activities that suddenly grow in importance and relevance in a life where he’s trying to break free from bad habits. two nights pass with hyunjin falling asleep with his eyes dried out from how long he’s stared into his phone, waiting for a message from an unknown number saying maybe _“hey it’s felix”_ or _“is that coffee/tea date still up?”_ or even _“god i cant believe you really gave me your number”_

but none arrive, no matter how obsessively he refreshes his kakaotalk home page. and no letter is ever delivered to his p.o box except for phone bills that quickly dry out any savings he had for his long missed matcha powder.

so what? heartbreak is his average emotional state. he’ll do what he does best: eat his sadness away. humans may fail him, but jjajangmyeon will never.

hyunjin does not hesitate to walk up to the front door to get his delivery order barefaced and wearing the naruto shirt he always saves for nights he needs an emotional support anime boy. there’s something incredibly empowering about being romantically rejected so many times you suddenly start not caring anymore about how you’re socially perceived. is this the moment of clarity he’s been waiting for all of these years? would naruto be proud of him?

 _fuck yeah, singlehood,_ hyunjin whispers to himself. _fuck others, i love myself._

“hi? i’m--”

which goes absolutely down the drain in the millisecond it takes hyunjin to register just what the actual fuck he saw outside his apartment dorm door that was absolutely not the delivery man.

through the peephole hyunjin absolutely did not think of checking before opening the door, he sees him. yep, still there. the cutest twink in the vicinity clutching a huge bouquet of red roses against his cinnamon freckle dusted cheeks, adorably panicked at just how fast hyunjin was to slam the door to his face.

_wait what._

“uh,” hyunjin opens the door the tiniest fraction in case this is some sort of prank camera show. “can i help you?”

“are you hwang hyunjin?”

“i am...and you are?”

“hi, it’s felix.”

hyunjin looks away for a minute to squeal out loud, but looks completely composed once he turns back to the door.

“how may i assist you in this exquisite evening?”

_what the fuck hyunjin._

“i usually prefer latte over matcha but i always drink matcha before i sleep as well, i’ve always wanted to try asmr but i don’t have the right equipment yet, i love all of your song recommendations, you can always pick up your phone and listen to me, i don’t mind your depressing stuff, i never read your letters live because i want to keep them to myself, i like jjajangmyeon better, any pepero flavor will do, you’re not a disappointment, i don’t have second intentions either, unless you do too, i spent two days getting enough courage to come up to you cause texting or writing didn’t feel right.”

hyunjin registers only half of the babbling shooting out of felix’s mouth but it sounds oddly like a response to all of hyunjin’s insane chain of thoughts in the last five letters or so, which means that yes felix has read every single humiliating confession of hyunjin’s poor heart and he does not know how to feel about being noticed at last save for the creeping feeling that felix has every reason to pull a prank camera on him and turn hyunjin into a national meme.

except that’s just hyunjin’s brain overheating, of course. you can almost hear the windows shutdown noises.

“and you didn’t write love.”

“what?”

“on your last letter,” felix holds it gingerly between his fingers, careful not to crease the paper. “you always finish them with ‘love, hyunjin’, but this time you didn’t.”

“i didn’t think it was appropriate.”

“oh, so all the other times when i was just your daydream boy it was?”

 _ouch._ but also fair point.

“you can already see the mess you’re about to get into.”

“i think i will have to judge that by myself. so, let’s go grab that tea? see if we’re a good _matcha_?”

_shit._

“i think i’m in love.”

felix smiles and hell yes, hyunjin is in love.

“i hope you are.”

**Author's Note:**

> i did not make that black day up btw it apparently really exists lol just not sure how many ppl in south korea actually do that


End file.
